Chance Encounter in Miami
by Lauriesf
Summary: A few members of the team meet an original character. Part of my Chance Encounters series. PLease R and R.


Chance Encounter – CSI Miami

_Disclaimer: don't own any of this, except my own original character. I promise to return the others unharmed. This is part of my chance encounters short stories series. I do hope you'll enjoy this one. Please, do tell me what you think._

You're standing there – dumbfounded and let's be frank, totally scared – on the side of the freeway where you've just been carjacked, when a gray hummer from the police department pulls over right next to you. You've not even thought of waving to the passing cars for help, just sat in the grass and waited for who knows what. Right now, your mind is still trying to process what's just happened to you.

A man wearing sunglasses and a well-cut beige suit and a younger woman with long blond hair get out of the car and approach you. You raise your head and look at them in dismay. You stand with difficulty, feeling the quiver in your legs that was not there a couple of minutes ago. The man takes off his glasses and looks at you straight in the eyes. He doesn't say a word. You can see he's taking in the situation, gauging you, as if deciding on which side you stand. The blond lady smiles at you kindly. "We're CSI," she states reassuringly. "You seem to be in trouble. Am I wrong?"

You shake your head and feel your mouth go dry. You don't know where to start. The man takes a step closer and reaches out for your hand. "Why don't you come and sit in the car with us?" he offers, tugging at your hand gently. He smiles at you, a smile that reaches his eyes and you feel warmth spread through your limbs where only a minute ago, you'd felt only cold, though the morning is warm and even damp for such an early hour. You follow him obediently and he helps you get in the back of the car. He gets a cold bottle of water from the boot, unscrews it for you and holds it out for you to take. "You'll feel much better when you've rested a little," he adds, still smiling.

You can't take his eyes of him. He looks so nice after what you've just been through but most of all, he's got the kindest eyes you've ever seen and you feel yourself melt under his gaze. You take a sip of water and look at him again. He's not taken his eyes off you and looks concerned. He's giving you time but you can feel they're both waiting for your explanation. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second. "Are you hurt?" you hear him ask.

You open your eyes again and gaze at him. You'd not noticed it before but now the shock is wearing off, you can see his hair in the morning sunlight. He's got beautiful red hair that compliments his eyes and goes well with his whole personality. Not your type at all, you reflect, and yet... There's definitely something about him that has the strongest pull on you. You don't remember ever being so taken by surprise. You pride yourself with being quite in control of your emotions but here it is – you clearly have a crush on him! He's still looking at you and you feel yourself blush, hoping he's not the kind of cops who can read minds. You bow your head and look at your hands on your lap, crossing and uncrossing your fingers.

"No, I'm OK, I guess," you finally answer. "I've been carjacked," you finally confess in a whisper.

You hear him grab his phone and give orders to the precinct then to his colleague. He turns to you: "How long ago?" he asks you.

You look up. "Ten minutes top, I think," you answer, feeling yourself shake again at the memory of the incident.

He lays a hand on yours. "It's over. You've got nothing to fear now." He's said it quietly and his voice soothes your nerves. "I need to know the details," he adds. You tell him it was a rented car and give him the papers. You tell him what you remember about the other car and the carjackers. His colleague relays the information to the central then turns to you. "Are you sure you're not hurt. I'd rather have you examined by a paramedic at least," she tells you, looking worried.

You shake your head and give her a poor smile. "I'm OK, really. I'm not a sissy. They just grabbed me and pushed me away so they could steal the car. I don't even have a scratch."

Another car pulls next to theirs and her colleague removes his hand from yours and gets out of the car. "I'll be right back," he tells you, glancing at you as he leaves. He stops short when he sees you gasp. He smiles. "I promise, young lady," he reassures you. You sigh in relief. You'd not realized his hand was still on top of yours until he'd removed it. It felt so natural to have it there. You see him talk briefly to the other cop, a younger man in his thirties he calls Eric, then he heads back towards you. "Eric and Calleigh here," he informs you, motioning to the blond lady, "are going to escort you to the precinct. I was on my way to attending to some personal matter so they'll take good care of you. You'll be able to testify and Calleigh is right. I'd be more reassured if you were examined. Take her to a doctor first thing," he orders her. The other two cops nod their approval and you can see they're totally dedicated to him. He's apparently the boss. You understand he's obviously got other fish to fry than escort the victim of a carjack to the central. You also glimpse at the bouquet of red and white roses on the seat next to you and grasp the meaning of what he's just told you. How stupid can you get! Of course he's got personal matters to attend to and of course you're the last of his worries. You hang your head and pray for them not to see the tears of humiliation welling in your eyes. You get out of the car and obediently sit in the other, not once looking back at him. What's the use anyway? You're pretty sure his mind is already on a very different matter and he won't spare you another glance.

You're so quiet during the drive that Calleigh tries to strike up a conversation with you several times. "You don't have to do small talk to me," you reassure her. "I'm OK, really. I won't faint. No commotion..." you add, hoping this will quieten her worries.

She laughs. "I'm not worried. You don't seem to be dizzy. Just the effect of the adrenaline. You're quite tough, I might add. Most women, and even men, would not have borne it so well, you know," she tells you and Eric nods his approval. "I think you've impressed Horatio, and believe me, there's not much that impresses him," he adds, winking at you in the rear view mirror.

You frown then realize he's talking about his boss. You blush. "I'm sure I haven't," you counter, looking forlorn. They look at each other and smile. "We can bet on it, if you want," Eric offers, chuckling. You give him a sad smile but don't answer. You know you've got to testify but you can't wait to get the hell out of all this now. They both seem nice enough and you're glad you've come across them but clearly, you can't wait to get out of this nightmare.

"Will it take long?" you ask them.

"No, don't worry, we'll help you settle this. Once you've filled the papers, we'll call the rental agency and inform them of the incident and make sure you get another car asap," Calleigh answers, her elbow on the back of the seat, turning to talk to you. "Are you here for long?"

You tell her that you've just arrived and intended to spend almost a week here. Fortunately, you had stopped at your hotel first before going sightseeing. There was nothing of value in the car.

Calleigh insists on you seeing a doctor first. "Humor her," Eric says. "If Horatio learns you've refused to see one, he'll hold her responsible for it."

"Is he such a dragon?" you can't help teasing them. "My first impression was rather that of a very sweet and compassionate man."

They smile. "You've got it right," Calleigh says. "Except if you're the bad guy. In that case, he's the most ruthless cop you'll ever encounter..." she adds ominously.

You laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"

They raise their eyebrows in unison. "Absolutely not," they say at the same time.

An hour later, you've finally finished filling in the forms and given any valuable detail you remember. They've called the rental agency. A car will be ready in about an hour and Eric has told you not to worry, that there'll be someone to drop you there. "I have to leave you now," he says, looking over your head. Calleigh already bid her goodbyes a couple of minutes ago and now, it seems to be his turn to go back to work. You can understand. They've stayed with you through the whole process but they need to get back to work. "I understand," you tell him. "Thank you for sparing me so much time. I'll be fine on my own. Don't worry," you add.

"Who said you should wait on your own?" you hear behind you and turn to see him standing just in front of you. It was him Eric was looking at.

"Bye," the latter tells you, shaking hands before he heads towards the elevator.

You turn towards him again. He's not moved and is observing you, no emotions playing on his face, only that kind smile that's already made you melt once. It does it all over again. Your own face, though, cannot probably hide the turmoil that's raking your senses. You did not expect to see him again.

"How are you feeling?" he asks worriedly, motioning for you to come and sit in one of the armchairs in the corridor. You follow him and sit. He sits beside you and turns to you.

You wince."I'm fine, I guess," you answer, self-consciously. His gaze is so intense you have the impression he's looking deep into your soul.

"Are you finished with the formalities?" he asks. You nod. "Well, in that case, I'm going to drive you back to your hotel, if you may," he offers and takes his sunglasses from his shirt pocket.

"Oh, really, no," you blurt out, embarrassed. "I can call a cab." You'd love him to drive you but he's obviously a very busy man and must have other things to do but drive a victim back to her hotel. You tell him so when you see him lift his eyebrows in wonder.

"I don't get it," he replies, tilting his head in the most endearing way and peers through your eyes. "What led you to think I couldn't spare you an hour, or even an afternoon, for that matter?" He's clearly intrigued by your reaction.

You blush. "The flowers..." you quip, turning beet red.

He smiles fondly at you. "I see..." is all he says before standing and holding out his hand to you. You instinctively put your hand in his and stand. "Allow me to drive you and I'll explain," he offers.

"You don't have to," you protest, feeling awkward. "It's obviously a private matter and we don't even know each other..."

He smiles and holds out his hand. "True enough. My name is Horatio Caine. What's yours?" he asks. You tell him and shake hands with him. He tilts his head to the side. "Now we know each other, will you allow me to tell you all about those flowers?"

You nod shyly. You're not like that normally. Not a people person either but you're quite at ease with people as long as it remains superficial. But with him, you're treading into unknown territory. He unsettles you in a way no man has ever been able to on the first encounter. He looks kind and generous and compassionate and yes, mysterious too – someone you'd like to come to know. He starts walking towards the exit and you follow suit. "Red is for passion," he says, alluding to the flowers in the bouquet. You nod, knowing where this is leading. He's got someone he very much cares about. How could he not? Men like him are never single. It's not in the order of things. You can guess women must be begging for his company. "And white..." he adds.

You cut him in. "...is for eternal love."

He smiles at you as he opens the door of his car for you. You're now standing barely a foot from him. You see the sadness in his eyes and feel something is not as you'd anticipated. "My wife was killed quite some time ago now. Not one month passes when I don't go to lay flowers on her grave," he tells you. You heart breaks for him. How could someone so sweet be so sad?

You instinctively lay your hand on his arm. "I'm so very sorry," you whisper to him. "This seems so unfair..." You don't know what else to say. There are no words that can console someone of the loss of their loved ones.

You've sat silently through the whole ride back to his hotel. Your heart is grieving for him. He's tried to make small talk with you but you're tongue-tied. You're not comfortable with people's grief. Words are so empty when it comes to soothing the pain and this man has obviously lost the love of his life. You reach your hotel and see the rental agent is waiting for you outside. You turn towards Horatio before getting out of the car. "Thank you for driving me and also for taking such good care of me. That was most generous of you and your colleagues. I do appreciate." You wince and add: "I'm really sorry for your wife. She must have been someone exceptional."

He looks at you and smiles fondly then takes hold of your hand and brushes a light kiss on the back of it. "I hope we'll meet again," he says. You feel butterflies in your stomach but of course, you know it's pure politeness. You smile at him and nod then exit the car. You watch him drive away and shake your head. You can still feel the touch of his lips on your hand. You really need to reconnect with reality!

The next morning, you're one of the first clients of the hotel to reach the breakfast room. It's early morning but you haven't been able to sleep well, waking up almost every hour from a different nightmare, one that always involves a car and hooded, scary figures. You've finally abandoned hope to ever go back to sleep after the fifth attempt and decide to head downstairs and have your morning coffee. The sun has already appeared on the horizon and the sight of the morning light on the skyline and bay is fabulous. You're chewing on your toast dreamily when you're jolted back to reality by a voice you thought you'd never hear again.

"Good morning, young lady. I see you're an early bird..." he teases you, standing a few feet from your table, his sunglasses in his hands, his head tilted in that most endearing way of his. You can't help smiling at him. He smiles back and sits in front of you.

"Would you like some coffee?" you offer as you motion for the waiter. "Have you already had breakfast?" you add.

"Coffee would be nice, yes and yes again, I've had breakfast at the precinct," he answers, smiling at the waiter who hurries away to get another mug.

"You're an early bird yourself, then," you laugh.

"Well, technically speaking, I'm not as I haven't gone to bed yet," he clarifies.

You look at him in dismay. "You've worked all night?" you exclaim.

"We have. We're not the kind to get home until the case is solved and there have been further developments last night..." he adds ominously. "That's why I'm here."

Oh, it suddenly dawns on you... He's not here on a social call. He's here because they probably need you again. You heart drops. You'd wanted so much for it to be different...

"But I'm glad I can see you again, though it would have been preferable under other circumstances," he tells you, still smiling. The waiter has returned with his mug of coffee and he settles comfortably in his chair, sipping at the steaming liquid with obvious pleasure. "There's nothing like that first cup of coffee in the morning," he tells you.

You nod vehemently. "You're quite right," you agree, chucking. "Couldn't go through my day without it." You look at him and see him close his eyes for a brief second, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Tough night?" you ask.

"Yeah, you could say that... But I was lucky. I had time to shower and change at the precinct and get a quick breakfast... so, having time for a second cup is the cherry on the cake," he banters.

You laugh. You like his way of looking at things – seeing the bottle half full.

The atmosphere is relaxed and you feel at ease with him, not at all like the way you parted yesterday. But all good things have to come to an end and you see him become serious again. "Would you agree to spare us some more time?" he asks, sighing.

"Yeah, sure."

"You might not like what I'm going to tell you so don't agree beforehand."

You nod your approval so he sits up in his chair and sets the cup of coffee on the table. He folds his hands and bites his lower lip. "OK, here goes. Last night, another carjack happened not far from where yours took place." He pauses as he sees you breathe out and frown. He takes hold of your hand on the table and squeezes it gently. "I know. It's hard to relive it and believe me, if I had another option, I wouldn't be begging for your help." You nod for him to go on and leave your hand in his. You need to hold on to him as you know there's more to come. "This time though, the owners of the car weren't so lucky. The driver is dead and the three other passengers are in a critical condition." You gasp and take your hand from his. You stand abruptly and march to the bay window, your hands hugging your waist, trying to prevent them from shaking. He stands too and comes to stand next to you. "Same modus operandi, same tire prints on the road. We know it's the same people and we have a pretty good hunch of who they might be. We'd like to bring them in for questioning and then show them to you. Another witness has already agreed to come. If two of you can confirm they're the same people, we can keep them in custody and it'll give us time to investigate. If not, they'll have disappeared by the time we can arraign them for murder. Will you help us?" he asks again, turning to you.

You can feel his eyes on you but don't want to face him yet. You know it's your duty to go and identify them but you're scared to hell.

"If that's what scares you, they won't see you, won't have your name. We only need you to confirm what we fear and then you and the other witness will be your way. No written testimony, no confrontation before a jury," he tries to reassure you.

He's met by only silence. He puts his hand on your arm, rubbing it gently. "Are you alright?" he worries.

You nod and finally turn to him, looking him in the eye. "Let's go," you tell him.

"Don't you want to finish your breakfast first?" he offers.

"Na," you say with more self-confidence than you feel, "slightly overrated anyway!"

He chuckles. "You're a tough one, I have to admit," he tells you.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say cheekily, sweeping you hair from your shoulder in what you hope is a casual gesture.

"It was," he answers, smiling and heads with you towards the door.

An hour later, you're looking through the two-way mirror of the interrogation room. He's told you they're going to bring in the suspects any minute. He doesn't tell you what the other witness has said. It's standing procedure.

Four men file in inside the room and are told to come to a halt and turn towards the mirror. They know they're being watched, only they don't know by whom, but it feels like they could see you. This time you can't stop your hands and then shoulders from shaking. He comes to stand right behind you and you can feel his chest flush with your back. He lays his hands gently on your shoulders then lets them slide slowly along your arms until they reach your forearms and he wraps his arms around you. "I'm right here with you," he whispers in your ear, making you shiver, "you have nothing to fear." You let your back rest against his chest and breathe in and out several times until you feel the shaking subside, then you open your eyes and peer through the mirror, examining the men on the other side. You want to be careful. You don't want to make a mistake. "Take your time," he whispers once more.

"The second one from the left and the last one on the right," you tell him.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asks.

"Yes, a hundred percent positive," you tell him, freeing yourself from his embrace and turning to look at him.

"Good," he says. "That makes the two of you," he explains, referring to the other witness. He approaches the microphone: "Thank you gentlemen," he says and the police officers get in the room and make the four men leave. "Wait here," he tells you. "I'll be right back. I have to make sure they've left before you exit the room." He leaves you alone and you go and sit in one the chairs. You feel drained and know the adrenaline has worn off. It's one too many times, feeling that surge of negative excitement in less than 24 hours. When he reenters the room, you can't stand. "Let's get you out of here and in the open air," he offers, putting his arm around your shoulders and supporting you towards the exit.

Eric and Calleigh are there and smile at you reassuringly. "Good job," they say and leave to finalize the investigation.

"Go with them. Don't worry about me. I'll find my way out," you offer, joking humorlessly: "Not as if it were my first time here, uh?"

He shakes his head and laughs. "You're a rare woman, you know that? Not my standard witness, that's for sure!" Then he adds more sedately: "My team are on it and there's no way my witness is getting back to her hotel alone. Besides, I owe you big time," he adds.

"Am I entitled to a medal?" you joke.

"No, but I was thinking that making you discover the area could be a better reward. What do you say?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

You look at him dumbfounded. "You're actually offering me to be my personal tour guide?" You cannot believe your ears.

"Yes, I am, young lady. I have a friend who rents air boats, so I was thinking we could make a little tour of the Everglades and even treat ourselves to a picnic near Mud Bay. If we're lucky, I might even be able to show you some flamingos... So what do you say?" he asks. "Feel tempted?"

You giggle. "'Course, I am. It's much better than a medal!"

He's settled things with his team and then driven you to your hotel so you may change while he does too then he picks you up. There's an old-fashioned wicker basket on the back seat and you attempt to lift the lead but he wags his finger at you. "Not so fast, kid. It wouldn't be a surprise if you could open it now. You need to wait a little bit longer..." he says enticingly. You make a show of pouting and make him chuckle.

The ride on the air boat is exhilarating and not only because of the speed and the wind rushing through your hair. The place is fabulous. You had planned to get a walking tour of the Everglades but this is much better. You're in one of the only places where air boats are allowed – and only on certain conditions – so you're basically alone in the place. When he kills the engine, the silence pervading the place is eery. It's as if you were the only people left on this world. He points to several places where you can watch the protected species of the park and hands you binoculars. You spend an hour or so doing it then he starts the engine again. "Time for lunch," he tells you and heads for a quiet spot on Mud Bay, away from the few tourists present that day.

He helps you get out of the boat and holds out the basket to you then follows you with a large blanket. You eye the surroundings suspiciously. "Are you sure it is safe here?" you ask shyly.

He laughs at you. "Yes, my lady. I've lived here the better part of my life and I can assure you that there is nothing to fear in that precise spot. Ten feet from here, though..." he adds ominously.

You eye him suspiciously. He cracks up and laughs at you. You slap his arm playfully. "Don't do that to me again. For your information, I'm scared of crocodiles, snakes and spiders, everything that slithers or crawls," you inform him.

He chuckles. "Alright then, I promise not to scare you again. But really, you're amazing. You fare well in a carjack but not in the wilderness..." He grins at you and tilts his head, watching for your reaction.

You stick your tongue at him and take the blanket from his hands, spreading it on the ground. He settles the basket next to you and helps you sit with him. Now, suddenly, you feel awkward. The playful moment was fine and you've felt at ease with him – that is, until now. Unaware of your turmoil, he opens the basket, revealing water bottles, club sandwiches, apples and a bottle of wine with two crystal glasses. He unscrews the bottle and fills a glass then holds it out to you. He suddenly sees it – the awkwardness, the unease. He sets the bottle on the floor and asks worriedly: "What is it?"

"I should never have come," you whisper to him, looking away. "This feels so wrong."

"No, it does not. Why do you say that?" he inquires, taking off his sunglasses and peering at you.

"That picnic... and the interrogation room..." you elaborate, referring to the moment when he took you in his arms.

"What about them? Am I not allowed to spend time with you? Is there something you're hiding from me?" He looks really worried now.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you. You've been very kind and generous. It's just I'm putting too much in all this, I guess." You look him in the eye and add: "I have been having feelings for you ever since we met. I know it's not right. I know you can't reciprocate them. I needed to tell you, that's all, or I would have felt like I was not totally being honest with you. Please forgive me..." You hang your head. You've said the last few words in a whisper and hate the butterflies you can feel dancing wildly in your stomach.

"Hey," he whispers back, tugging at your hand to get hold of it. You resist him, feeling humiliated. "Don't shut me out," he insists and you finally relent. "There's nothing wrong about those feelings. You felt static between us?" he asks and you nod. "I felt it too," he confesses and you gasp. "You're not helping me to cheat on her, you know. She was the most generous woman I ever met and if she could, she'd tell me to go ahead and enjoy life, embrace it. Life is so very fragile and thus so precious. We must not waste it with that kind of useless remorse. I like you and you seem to like me. There's nothing wrong about it, is there?" He lifts your chin with his hand and looks into your eyes for some sign of approval. You close your eyes and sigh. You feel a gentle kiss being laid on your lips and then his nose nuzzling your hair. You sigh once more, but this time it's from content.

You've spent the last hour talking and eating and yes, kissing too. His lips are soft and warm on your skin and you can't get enough of him. You're both lying on the blanket. He's propped himself up on one elbow and is looking at you intently, making you blush more than once. He smiles at you. "I like it when you blush. You look so beautiful," he says before bending and kissing you again but this time the kiss holds a sense of urgency and passion that was lacking before. You moan in his mouth and under the soft caresses he's bestowing on your arms then waist, getting south. You feel heat spreading through your limbs and feel like you've died and come to heaven. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you, making you feel safe and cherished and you let him.

His lips have left yours to leave a trail of burning kisses down your jaw and neck. You feel him unbutton the top of your white shirt and arch your back. You've decided that whatever may happen here is OK with you if it's OK with him but, then, as you let yourself drown in his scent and touch and prop yourself up on your elbows to look into his eyes, you suddenly feel him tense then phase out. He's not there with you anymore. His eyes are looking in the distance, reaching out to something or rather someone you cannot see but seem very real to him. "Horatio," you whisper. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, as if trying to reconnect with your own reality. "Nothing," he says, his voice unsure.

You're going to prod some more when the bottle of wine suddenly explodes in hundreds of pieces and shards of glass hit you both. You feel searing pain in your left arm and shoulder and see blood staining his own shirt. You look at him in puzzlement. You'd like to scream but no sound comes from your lips. In the split second it has taken you to realize you're under fire, he's already covered you with his body. You feel him shift and he pulls you with him towards the high grass near the air boat that might be your only chance to make it alive. He's gotten his phone from his belt and is unsuccessfully trying to reach his team. There's obviously no network available in that area.

"I need to get inside the boat to retrieve my gun," he whispers to you, as silence has yet again settled. Whoever was shooting at you stopped when you both got behind the boat but you're not stupid. You know they're not just going to go away. You look at him, your eyes wide with fear. You've never been shot at and you're scared of being left alone. He brushes his lips to yours. "I'll be right back. In the meantime," he adds, handing you his phone, "try to call my colleagues. We may finally get lucky."

He's successfully managed to get his gun from the boat and returns to you in no time. They're not shooting anymore and that is more scary than anything. You know they're there somewhere, probably getting closer, though no telltale sound can be heard.

"Who do you think they are?" you whisper to him.

"Well, I'm sorry to say it but I think there's a pretty good chance they're linked somehow to the people we arrested today..." he tells you, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

"What could they possibly want with us?" you wonder.

"We know you're behind that boat," someone shouts from close by. You tense. Horatio motions for you to stay down and hush. "We only want the girl. Send her over here and you might get out of here alive," the voice adds threateningly.

"You know I can't do that," Horatio shouts back, keeping his free hand on your shoulder. "Do not move," he orders you, feeling you shift next to him.

"Do you have a better option?" you ask him, aggravated. "Maybe if I let them take me, they won't hurt us..."

He breathes out in exasperation and looks you in the eye. "Courage in a woman is very attractive. Stupidity is not. They'll kill you as soon as you show yourself."

You blush. Yes, you do feel stupid and helpless and also very scared too. He caresses your cheek. "We're gonna be fine, somehow," he promises. That's when the phone starts vibrating. He grabs it from your hand and listens intently for a few seconds then answers the other party. "Yes, Eric, I think I can hold them off until you get here but be quick. I only have my service gun and one spare magazine. And I can't tell how many of them there are out there. Alright, we'll be waiting for you..." he says before ending the call.

You look at him inquiringly. "Apparently, we were seconds on their list. They tried to kill the other witness but fortunately missed. Eric caught one of them and followed their trail. The team will be here in a matter of minutes."

"All in all, it wasn't such a bad day, don't you think?" Horatio banters a couple of hours later as you've both been taken care of by the paramedics and are now sitting at the precinct. Your ears are still ringing from the shots and your arm is in a sling but the painkillers you've been given are soothing the pain for now. He has a large bandage on his arm too and a few cuts on the side of his face but you know you're both very lucky you didn't get killed.

He's asked you to go and see the shrink but you've adamantly refused and are sitting in the corridor while they're debriefing. Eric leaves the conference room before the others and comes to sit next to you. He hands you a cup of coffee. "How are you doing?" he asks solicitously. "I guess of all the things one might imagine finding in the Everglades, those guys were the last on your list, right?" he jokes, trying to alleviate the atmosphere.

You wince. "Yeah, well..." You don't know what to say. You feel awkward. The team has just come back from the area where it happened and you know they must be aware of why you and their boss were there together – all on your own...

He smiles at you. "Hey, don't be embarrassed. I'm OK with all this, you know. I'm glad he has finally found someone. After my sister was killed, I thought he would never recover from it..."

You look at him horrified. "She was your sister? His wife was your sister? Oh, God," you moan.

Eric chuckles then gets serious. "That's OK. I'm fine with all this. You're a blessing. He needed you and it's perfect timing. He seems to be ready to move on and I'm OK with that. I know he'll never forget her but I can see from your reaction that you'll never be jealous of her..."

"Except he hasn't..." you answer, your gaze lost in the distance.

"What?" he prods, not getting it.

"He hasn't moved on. He's still very much connected to her..." you tell him sadly then get up. You've just come to a decision. It's not something you want to do. It's just something you have to do. Period. The more you wait, the more painful it'll get, you tell yourself. "Listen, I'd like to get to my hotel to change, if you don't mind. Tell Horatio..." you hesitate. You don't want to be telling lies to Eric and have him repeat them. "No, on second thoughts, it's better if I leave a note," you tell him, feeling suddenly more self-confident than you've been since that whole thing started.

He looks surprised but waves towards his boss's office. "Feel free to leave a message on his desk. I'll tell him there's a note for him when he leaves the conference room."

The cab drops you at the hotel in a matter of minutes. You have a quick and quiet discussion with the receptionist who agrees to make a few phone calls for you while you take the elevator to your room and busy yourself. You don't want to waste time. Within the hour, everything is settled. You feel grief-stricken but know there's no way around it.

You're now standing in line. You wish you could have arrived earlier but when you got there a couple of minutes ago, there were already a dozen people waiting. You pray for the line to start moving forward. You sigh and close your eyes. You feel butterflies in your stomach and wish things were different and you'd had more time. There are tears in your eyes that shouldn't be there, you scold yourself. God you hate being weak...

"Did you really think I would let you leave without at least trying to make you change your mind?" you suddenly hear right next to you. You open your eyes in alarm and turn towards the sound of his voice. He's standing a foot from you and looking at you inquiringly, his head cocked to the side, his hands on his hips, his badge showing on his belt, and you hear people behind you whisper about the presence of a police officer in the departure lounge.

You shrug sadly. "At least I tried," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't answer. It would have been so much easier if he hadn't shown up. You tell him.

He shakes his head disapprovingly. "Is it because of what Eric told you?"

"No! Please don't blame him," you plead.

"I'm not. I just want to know if you're leaving because you're feeling guilty," he demands.

You bite your lower lip before answering. It is so hard to put words on all this. "I'm leaving because you and I are not meant to be. I'm being selfish here, I know, Horatio, but you have to understand. I don't want to get hurt in the process. You may not realize it right now or maybe you are aware of it but are trying to lie to yourself, but you're simply not ready yet to move on," you explain then raise your hand when you see him ready to intervene: "I saw it, saw the longing for her, in your eyes, when you were with me. Do not kid yourself. It is too soon," you add sadly.

He grabs your arm and tugs you towards the armchairs and sits next to you. "I am not going to lie to you. I know what you're talking about. I just feel good with you. I thought you'd want to give it a try..." his voice trails off. He already knows your answer but is not ready to let go yet.

You lift your hand and cup his cheek. "We both know it won't work, Horatio. You need to let me go. With time, you'll find yourself ready to move on and, when you do, there'll be plenty of ladies ready to share their lives with you. Don't you worry," you add, winking at him. You see that he doesn't take you up on that joke. "You don't want to make this easy, do you?" you quip. "All right, then," you say, letting your hand drop and getting up.

"Will you come back?" he demands quietly.

You glance at him. Your heart breaks for the two of you but you know things cannot be simple between you two, not after being there when he still needed to connect to her. "No, I won't. She'd always be between us and seeing me, you'd always be reminded of when you still longed for her..." you explain.

"Lady, if you want to get on that plane, now's the right time," the hostess urges you. You take a look around and see you're all alone in the departure area.

"You do understand, don't you?" you ask him. "It would be so much easier for both of us if you gave me your blessing and let me go..." you plead one more time. He observes you in silence then nods. You approach him and leave one last kiss on his lips then, holding your head high, you head towards the gangway, not once looking back.


End file.
